


daisy

by pshooyeop (choucobos)



Category: B.A.P
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, F/M, Flower Language, Fluff, jongup's there for like a hot second, yongguk is a soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-03
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2019-03-26 10:22:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13855812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/choucobos/pseuds/pshooyeop
Summary: let me show you how a kiss should tastetrust me, i won't give your heart away-- b.a.p zelo/reader. female reader. sfw. florist au.





	daisy

The flowers were always daisies. There was never too much, but it was never just one. And the daisies were always white.

 

You were half tempted to skip class one day, just to find out who would leave the daisies in your bike’s basket every Tuesday and Thursday. It was a sweet gesture, and you wanted to thank whoever kept bringing them to you. Nahyun teased you about having a secret admirer, and as much as you insisted that you only wanted to thank the flower gifter, you were also curious as to who exactly was kind and sweet enough to leave you flowers.

 

“This is so romantic and cute,” Nahyun sighs, admiring the daisies. They weren’t even organized into a proper bouquet -- the small daisies were tied with a bit of red ribbon that stood out among the daisies’ pristine, white petals.

 

“Don’t damage them,” you softly say, unlocking your bike from the stand where you always left it.

 

“Are you collecting them?” She asks, twirling the stem of a single daisy between her fingers.

 

“Sort of,” you hum. “Some of them I’m pressing to make bookmarks. I keep most of them in jars.”

 

“How long has it been since you started getting these?”

 

“Two weeks ago now.”

 

“How long do you think your admirer is going to keep this up before they confess their undying love for you?” Nahyun asks. You roll your eyes at the teasing lilt in her tone and stand up from where you’d been squatting on the ground.

 

“Maybe the flower gifter is just a nice person who wants to brighten someone’s day,” you answer, plucking the bunch of flowers from Nahyun’s hand. She presses her lips together to make a face and she tucks the daisy behind your ear. It tickles a little and you brush her hand off.

 

“Well then the flower gifter -- ugh, why don’t you just call them your secret admirer?”

 

“Because maybe they’re just  _ nice _ and don’t have romantic feelings for me,” you fire back.

 

“Okay, whatever. If the ‘flower gifter’-” Nahyun makes air quotes at the moniker “-was just trying to be nice, then they’d be leaving daisies in everyone’s baskets and cars.”

 

“I’m not the flower gifter,” you grumble. “I don’t know what’s going on in their head.”

 

“Well I have an idea,” she declares. You look up at her with a raised brow, skeptical. Nahyun’s ideas ranged from grabbing coffee at the best cafe at 7AM when it was at its least busiest time to sneaking into the sciences building to grab the “super cute cardigan” that was worth 30 000 more won than Nahyun would like to lose.

 

“I’m listening, but I’m not guaranteeing compliancy,” you warn her, beginning to walk with your bike. You and Nahyun walk at a slow pace. Classes were over for the day and you weren’t necessarily in any rush to get anywhere.

 

“So, there’s this flower shop that opened maybe a month ago? It’s run by this man who looks kinda scary, but I went in there one day and he was giving this little girl a flower. It was so cute. Not the point. Anyway, we could go into that flower shop and see if anyone’s been buying daisies.”

 

You stare at your best friend. She looks pretty proud of herself for her idea, and you weren’t gonna lie, the idea wasn’t that bad. So in the end, instead of groaning about a potentially bad idea, you walk your bike with Nahyun to the flower shop that she’d quickly Googled on her phone.

 

“The flower shop is called  _ Vernalagnia _ . It’s run and managed by some guy named Bang Yongguk.” Nahyun reads off of the shop’s website. “You know, for a flower shop, this website is really pretty and aesthetically pleasing. Like, I would’ve expected a solid color background -- maybe an annoying shade of lilac or purple -- and Comic Sans font.”

 

“Maybe they have someone who’s good with website design,” you offer. “Also, Vernalagnia is a weird word for a flower shop. What does it even mean?”

 

“No idea,” your friend answers, making a face at her phone. “It’s pretty close by to that hole in the wall ramen place that I showed you some time ago, though.”

 

“Let me guess -- you were going to the ramen place when you found the flower shop instead,” you tease her. She scowls and shoves your arm, nearly throwing you off balance. Thankfully, you don’t because you’re still holding onto your bike.

 

“Why do you still ride a bike everywhere?” Nahyun complains. “Everyone uses cars now, I don’t get it.”

 

“Okay, first of all, I’ve had this bike since high school, so you’re going to have to pry it from my cold dead fingers if you want to get rid of it. Second of all, it’s cheaper and better for the environment. And, hey, I have to stay fit  _ somehow _ ,” you answer. You really liked your bike; your dad had gotten it for you on your first year of high school, and you’d been using it ever since. It wasn’t like it was anything special, but since you’d moved into the city for university a year ago, it was the only familiar thing you knew.

 

“Ugh, suit yourself.” She rolles her eyes. She always had this vendetta against your bike for some reason and found any excuse to complain about it. It was sort of a joke between you by now.

 

“Is that the place?” You ask her, pointing to a shop. It was a quaint little building, with rustic buckets filled to the brim with flower arrangements. It was a bright spot on the street, with its comfortable and aesthetically pleasing airs.

 

“Yup. Cute, right?” She grins.

 

“It’s pretty,” you agree, a smile forming on your lips. You chain your bike to the nearest bike stand outside of the flower shop and enter with Nahyun. Immediately, you’re hit with a myriad of aromas. It wasn’t overwhelming or uncomfortable; it was welcoming and soft.

 

“Welcome,” a deep, but gentle voice, greets you. You turn away from a particularly bright bunch of gerberas to find a tall man with dark eyes and long, dark hair that framed his face. There was a serious, but kind expression on his face, and a two, soft pink flowers in his hands.

 

“I haven’t seen you in Vernalagnia before,” he says. “I’m Bang Yongguk, the owner of the store. I manage it all by myself, but I do get help from a couple of friends as employees. To thank you for coming, I wanted to give you these peonies.”

 

Gingerly, he offers the peonies to you, and you accept them. Their aromatic scent calmed your senses, and you smile as you look down at their blush-colored petals.

 

“Peonies represent luxury, indulgence, and a happy life. I hope you enjoy your time here,” Yongguk continues. The corners of his lips quirk up slightly as he watches you admire the flowers he’d given you.

 

“Thank you,” you gratefully say. He seemed to be well-versed in the meaning of flowers. It was sort of sweet to see, especially when Yongguk had a mature and serious vibe coming off of him.

 

“Oh, what did you get?” Nahyun asks, coming up to your side.

 

“Peonies,” you show her, smiling.

 

“Wow, those are really pretty,” she gushes, examining one of the peonies in her hands.

 

“Vernalagnia boasts only the highest quality of flowers,” Yongguk mentions. “Usually I have to drive out far to find the best, but it’s honestly worth it when people love our flowers so much.”

 

“Well, the flowers here are definitely beautiful,” Nahyun compliments. The store owner bows, grateful.

 

“Was there anything you two were looking for in particular?” He asks then, curious.

 

“Oh, right,” Nahyun pipes up, beating you to the explanation. “My friend here has been getting daisies every week by a  _ secret admirer _ \--”

 

“ _ Nahyun _ ,” you cut her off, embarrassed.

 

“We were just wondering if you knew someone who came often and bought daisies,” she goes on, not skipping a beat.

 

Yongguk seems to think for a moment, brows furrowing. After a moment, he shakes his head.

 

“I’m sorry, I can’t recall. I can try to ask Jongup since he usually remembers whoever comes here.” He offers.

 

“It’s okay,” you quickly say before Nahyun can say anything. “I don’t want to take too much of your time. Thank you, Mr. Yongguk.”

 

“Yongguk’s just fine,” he insists.

 

“Thank you, Yongguk,” you correct yourself. “And thank you for the peonies. They really are beautiful.”

 

“Before you leave, would you like to know the meaning of daisies?” He asks out of nowhere, surprising you. You blink and, after a moment’s hesitation, nod.

 

“Daisies represent purity and innocence, and over all, hope and renewal, like seeing the world in childlike wonder once again.” Yongguk pauses, before a gentle expression crosses his eyes.

 

“I hope you meet your admirer.”

 

-

 

The next time you receive your daisies, the color of the ribbon has changed. Instead of red, it’s a soft, baby blue. You smile to yourself and admire the white petals. It’s different as you look at them this time. Instead of the simple elation and warm-hearted feeling at just seeing the daisies, your chest grows warm and your heart beats a little faster. You don’t want to think about what that means, so you gingerly place the daisies back in your bike’s basket, cheeks warm.

 

“(Y/N)~ You’re turning red, you know.”

 

You jump, surprised, before you realize it’s only Nahyun who’d spoken to you. You shoot her a pout and huff to yourself. “Don’t sneak up on me like that, Nahyun. You know I scare easily.”

 

“Yeah, yeah. So did you see who gave you your daisies?”

 

“Of course not,” you answer softly, unlocking your bike from the stand. “I was in class.”

 

“Maybe we can ask around to see if anyone saw a person hanging around your bike,” she says with a shrug. “Don’t you have a little extra time?”

 

You send her a look. “I mean, I guess, but--”

  
“Great! Let’s go ask around now!” She excitedly says, grabbing your upper arm to pull you up. Giving up on unlocking your bike lock, you stand at your best friend’s insistent tugging. At a second thought, you grab the daisies from your bike’s basket and try not to trip when Nahyun is dragging you away.

 

The first person you approach is an upperclassman named Euijin. You’re acquainted with her and see her around on campus, and you know she’s younger than Nahyun, but other than nodding and smiling at her whenever you passed by, you didn’t know too much about her. Nahyun, on the other hand, seemed to be well acquainted with her (but when did she  _ not _ know someone on campus?).

 

“Euijin, you park your car in the third parking lot, right?” Nahyun casually asks.

 

“What did you do to my car?” She asks immediately, brows furrowed.

 

“I did nothing to your car,” your friend immediately denies.

 

“Why are you asking about where I park then?” Euijin asks, narrowing her eyes.

 

“Because (Y/N) keeps her bike in the third parking lot and someone has a massive crush on her so they keep leaving her flowers.”

 

“Oh my god, Nahyun,” you groan. Why was she like this?

 

“What’s this got to do with me?” Euijin asks then, confused.

 

“Have you seen anyone hanging around (Y/N)’s bike?” Nahyun questions, staring intently at the younger girl. She’s visibly perturbed at Nahyun’s intense (and annoying) stare.

 

“I don’t even know what her bike looks like, so if I saw anyone, I would think that the bike they were at was theirs,” she points out. Which is actually a pretty big flaw in Nahyun’s plan, you realize, so asking anyone else would be pointless.

 

But alas, your best friend was relentless. She asked another student named Himchan, another one you weren’t acquainted with, your friend Minjae, and a student who was maybe a year or a half older than you named Junhong.

 

“Junhong!” Nahyun calls, grabbing the attention of the hurried boy (and other students in a 20 feet radius). He was tall and lanky, and you weren’t too familiar with him, but you were sure you’d seen him in a class or two.

 

“Nahyun,” he greets. He gives you a small (and awkward) wave, and to be polite, you wave back.

 

“Do you park your car in the third parking lot?” She asks. Junhong shakes his head.

 

“Usually I take a bus here, why?”

 

“My friend (Y/N), here -- (Y/N), say hi -- wants to know who’s been leaving her flowers at her bike every week,” Nahyun explains. You roll your eyes. You can’t even bother to be annoyed that she’s telling everyone your business by now.

 

“Sorry for bothering you,” you apologize to him. “Nahyun, I don’t think he knows anything about it. Let’s just go -- I wanna eat.”   
  


“Wa--Wait.”

 

As you turn to leave, Junhong speaks up. You turn back to look at him. He’s fidgety and there’s a nervous expression on his face. You knew him to be quiet and reserved, but not  _ this _ much.

 

“Do you want me to help you look?” He asks.

 

“I couldn’t trouble--”

 

“Yes!” Nahyun interrupts you, covering your mouth. You pull her hand away from you immediately, yelling out indignantly. Seriously, there was no need for Junhong to help. It was kind of a personal matter anyway -- why was he even remotely interested in helping? And why was Nahyun cool with it?

 

“If you want, I can watch to see who comes by your bike,” he offers.

 

“Well…” You’re reluctant. There was the chance that Junhong could actually help you, but the effort could also be completely useless. And you seriously didn’t want to bother Junhong, even if he seemed insistent on helping.

 

But again, Nahyun takes advantage of your hesitation and makes a decision for her. “Great! The secret admirer always leaves flowers on Tuesdays and Thursdays. (Y/N)’s last class ends at 2:50 then.”

 

“This is so unnecessary,” you mumble.

 

“You’re finally showing interest in finding the person,” Nahyun breezily comments. “The least I could do is actually force you to do it.”

 

“Maybe the person’s nice,” Junhong offers, shrugging. You force a strained smile on your face.

 

You were never one for confrontation, especially when it involved romantic feelings for someone. And sure, you  _ might _ be developing the  _ slightest _ of crushes on whoever was leaving you flowers. How could you not? After Yongguk had told you the meaning of daisies, you couldn’t help but be enamored with the idea of someone leaving these flowers behind -- even if they didn’t know the meaning. Still, it wasn’t as if you wanted to straight up date who’d been giving you flowers. You didn’t even know who it  _ was _ \-- how could you possibly date them just because of a cute gesture? On the other hand, you’d rather get to know them and thank them for all the daisies.

 

You find yourself dreading Tuesday, when Junhong would tell you who he found at your bike.

 

-

 

“These were already in your basket when I got there,” Junhong explains as soon as you see him on Tuesday afternoon. Your heart beats a little faster when you see the familiar bunch of daisies, tied with a pink ribbon instead of the blue. The daisies, however, weren’t alone. Scattered on the bottom of your basket were multiple pink flowers and more daisies. Gingerly, you pick up one of the pink flowers, finding that the edges of the petals were frilled. It was kind of cute.

 

“Oh, those are pinks,” Junhong mentions. You look up at him, surprised.

 

“You know these?” You asked, pointing at the flowers. He nods.

 

“Daisies represent innocence and new beginnings,” he explains, picking up the bunch of daisies. The gentle way he handled it was familiar to you. “Pinks represent pure love.”

 

You feel your cheeks heat up at his words. Junhong also seems to realize what he’d said and stumbles over his words for a little bit to save face. “I mean-- I just-- I work at-- I work at Verna- Vernalagnia, and Yongguk hyung always talks about the meaning of flowers.”

 

“Oh,” you say dumbly. Embarrassed, Junhong thrusts the daisies towards you. His gentleness was replaced with clumsiness, and you can’t help but think that he was  _ cute _ . Your cheeks heat up again, and you hesitate before accepting the bunch of daisies.

 

“Whoa, Junhong, are you (Y/N)’s secret admirer?” Nahyun’s voice reaches your ears. Junhong’s eyes widen as he turns his head fast towards your friend.

 

“I’m joking,” she laughs. “You don’t need to look so scared.”

 

“I was just handing her the daisies,” Junhong mumbles, eyes shifting to admire the greenery that the university did a fantastic job of maintaining.

 

“Aww. Anyway, did you catch whoever left them?” Nahyun asks, excited.

 

“No, the person already left these here when he got here,” You explain for Junhong. Nahyun pouts and visibly deflates. You’re stumped for your next course of action in finding out who this person was, until you look at Junhong again.

 

“Hey, wait, didn’t you just tell me you worked at Vernalagnia?” You ask him, snapping. Nahyun’s eyebrows shoot up.

 

“You do?” She asks.

 

“Oh, uh, yeah,” he answers, fidgeting again.

 

“So do you remember anyone buying daisies or pinks?” You ask.

 

“Uh, Yongguk hyung doesn’t trust me behind the register because I broke it once,” he sheepishly admits. Your shoulders sag, having lost your one chance to maybe find whoever it was that kept doing these sweet gestures.

 

“Hang on, don’t you have another coworker?” Nahyun asks, brightening. “Jongup or something, right? Yongguk mentioned he remembers who buys what.”

 

Junhong visibly panics, but you don’t even notice. The smile returns to your lips -- maybe you could  _ finally _ find out who this flower giver was. Your heart beats a little faster, and you can’t deny that you’re pretty excited. You beam up at Junhong, ecstatic for this chance, and he only sends you back a strained and forced smile.

 

-

 

“Sorry, I don’t think anyone’s bought any daisies or pinks lately,” Jongup says apologetically. “The last time someone bought any pinks was… last month? And we’ve been losing our daisies for some reason.”

 

Next to you, Junhong sheepishly avoids his friend’s pointed look. Nahyun lets out a frustrated sigh, and you feel dejected again. How was that even possible? As far as you knew, Vernalagnia was the only flower shop in the area -- where else would someone be getting pinks or daisies?

 

“Thanks anyway,” you tell Jongup. He nods and goes back to what he was doing before.

 

“Ah, shoot,” Nahyun grumbles. “Sumin’s calling me into work.”

 

“I’ll try to think of more ways to meet the flower gifter,” you tell her. She nods, sending you a sympathetic look, before rushing out of the flower shop.

 

“Flower gifter? Is that what you’re calling your secret admirer?” Junhong asks, a lopsided grin forming on his lips. You feel heat crawling up your neck and you clear your throat in an attempt to distract him from your reddening cheeks.

 

“Well it’s a little presumptuous to call them ‘secret admirer’,” you trail off. He rolls his eyes.

 

“Your secret admirer just gave you a bunch of flowers that meant ‘true love’. I think it’s safe to say he has feelings for you,” he replies, voice going soft at the end. You send him a withering look and he laughs.

 

“I think ‘flower gifter’ is cute if it makes you feel any better.” He offers. Your heart races at his bright smile that makes his eyes disappear.

 

Strangely enough, with his grin and his gentle voice, it does.

 

-

 

Without any better plan, you start hanging around Vernalagnia more often. You tell yourself it’s because you’re trying to look out for whoever’s buying daisies, but deep down, as you laugh at Junhong’s latest dumb joke, you know that it’s not the complete truth.

 

The daisies kept coming. Most of the time, they were tied with a blue ribbon. Sometimes, when the daisies came with other flowers, they would be tied with a ribbon that matched that flower. Each time you were brought a different flower, you would bring it to Junhong and he would explain what it meant.

 

So far, you learned that dahlias represented dignity and elegance. Ranunculus meant that you were charming. Orchids represented love and refined beauty. Your flower gifter was certainly becoming more and more bold.

 

Aside from chatting with Junhong the entire time you were at the flower shop, you also offered to help Yongguk around the store a little. He insisted that it wasn’t necessary, but you stubbornly stayed to help clean around the store or point customers to Yongguk when they had a question (since they were more inclined to talk to her rather than him). In working with him, she began to learn a little about the flower language he loved so much.

 

“I’m sure Junhong’s already told you this, but I really do love the language of flowers,” he explains. “I think it’s not just romantic, but also meaningful. Some people can’t verbally express how they feel in words, so expressing themselves physically with flowers is the next best thing, in my opinion.”

 

“That’s a sweet way of thinking,” you hum, sweeping the floor of fallen petals. The relaxed atmosphere of the shop paired with the scent of honeysuckle on the display nearby had you feeling easygoing. Junhong was busy in the back of the store with arrangements for a man who’d forgotten his anniversary with his boyfriend. Jongup was organizing the arrangements on the display outside of the store.

 

“If I’m gonna be honest, the only other person in this entire city who knows the language of flowers is Junhong,” Yongguk admits.

 

“Really?” You ask, interest piqued. Now that you thought about it, he always seemed to know the meaning of each flower that you brought to him.

 

“Yeah. Junhong and I grew up together, and we usually share the same interests. When I started liking flowers a lot, he got interested in them, too.”

 

“So he started learning the flower language?” You guessed.

 

“I did, at first, and I had Junhong quiz me on some of the meanings when I was trying to memorize them,” Yongguk grins. “I guess that’s how he started learning them, too. But Junhong’s a bit of a romantic. Sure, he’s clumsy and kind of weird sometimes, but he’s a good kid. He likes all that sappy stuff just as much as I do.”

 

You find yourself smiling fondly up at Yongguk. You knew exactly what he was talking about. In the short time you got to know him, you found out that Junhong was shy in front of people he’d never met before. He warmed up rather easily, though, and was soon cracking jokes and making impressions of customers who would come into the store or professors in the university. Each time you would excitedly come to him, a question on your tongue about the meaning of a certain flower, his answer would come easy with a spiel on the meaning and even the origins. He was comfortable around you and you weren’t going to lie about being just as relaxed around him, too.

 

“Hyung, I finished making the arrangements for the guy at the counter, but I can’t find Jongup hyung and I know you don’t like me at the register,” Junhong’s voice comes in, interrupting your train of thought. His eyes land on you and Yongguk and his brows knit together as if he were thinking. Yongguk nods at him and strides past to take care of the customer.

 

“What were you and Yongguk hyung talking about?” He asks, voice quiet.

 

“Nothing important,” you nonchalantly say. A grin worms its way onto your lips. “Just heard that you’re really into flower language?”

 

Immediately, Junhong groans and turns red. “Hyung!”

 

(Yongguk’s laugh can be heard from the counter, but Junhong can only focus on yours in front of him.)

 

“Can you teach me?” You ask him, leaning against the broom you were (supposed to be) using.

 

“Why don’t you ask Yongguk hyung to teach you?” Junhong whines. “He’s better at this than I am.”

 

“But I want  _ you _ to teach me,” you insist, jabbing his chest. “Besides, Yongguk said you were just as good at it as he was, so there’s no problem with you teaching me. I wanna know how to tell someone to go away in flower!”

 

Junhong bursts out laughing and you join him without hesitation. It feels so good to just laugh with him in that quaint little flower shop. And maybe you were disturbing some customers, but you didn’t care. You were with Junhong, and that was all that mattered.

 

“Fine,” he dramatically sighed, feigning defeat. “I’ll start teaching you tomorrow, okay?”

 

“It’s a promise,” you respond with a smile.

 

-

 

So maybe you had feelings for Junhong. You only come to that realization that night, recalling how hard you laughed with him that afternoon as you brushed your teeth. You came to that realization when you texted him “good night” and he replied with a meme photo of Jongup that he’d taken when the older wasn’t looking. You came to that realization when you couldn’t fall asleep, mind occupied with thoughts of his childlike smile and his gentle behavior.

 

Yet you found that you didn’t mind all that much.

 

-

 

There were no more daisies on Tuesdays and Thursdays.

 

You noticed their absence immediately. Your heart fell at the sight of an empty basket.

 

Maybe your flower gifter had gotten bored. Or maybe they’d given up. You hadn’t made any effort to look for them in a while. And maybe… maybe they saw you with Junhong.

 

It wasn’t like you could change your feelings, though. You had a crush on Junhong, not the flower gifter. As much as you looked forward to the daisies in your bike’s basket, they didn’t make your heart race as much as Junhong’s smile did. And maybe that was selfish of you. But you couldn’t change your feelings.

 

“No daisies?” Nahyun asks, brows furrowed, peeking into your basket. You leaned against the bike stand, dejected.

 

“Maybe they got tired of me,” you mumble.

 

“Ah, don’t say that,” your friend chides, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “Maybe they just couldn’t leave you flowers today.”

 

In your pocket, your phone buzzes. You pull it out to check the text notification from Junhong.

 

[14:56]

**Junhong:** Im sorry (y/n) i cant teach you the flower language today :(((   
**Junhong:** The store is busy with a really big wedding coming up soon  </3  
**Junhong:** I promise ill make it up to you!!!!!!! And ill definitely teach you the flower language i promise

 

“What happened?” Nahyun asks, peering into your upset expression. Your mood had visibly worsened when you read Junhong’s text.

 

“It’s nothing, my plans just got cancelled for the afternoon.” You murmur, stuffing your phone back into your pocket. “And Vernalagnia’s busy with a wedding, so I can’t really hang out there.”

 

“Aw, you miss Junhong?”

 

Heat crawls up the back of your neck and your cheeks and you smack Nahyun’s arm hard. “I don’t!”

 

“C’ _ mon _ , you two are always together. You think I’m not gonna notice how my  _ best friend who has totally been neglecting me for a cute boy _ feels?”

 

“Don’t guilt me,” you whine.

 

“You kept making plans with Junhong! I’m salty, (Y/N)!”

 

“Okay, I’m  _ sorry _ Nahyun…”

 

“I’ll forgive you if you pay for ramen.”

 

“Of  _ course _ .”

 

Nahyun bursts into a fit of giggles, and despite the fact that you didn’t get daisies that day and you didn’t get to see Junhong, you join her. It’s better to be a little more optimistic about the situation, anyway.

 

-

 

The following Thursday, your bike basket was as empty as ever and Junhong was too busy studying for an exam on Friday. You try not to let it bother you, but every time Nahyun tells a joke, you feel like you’re forcing yourself to laugh.

 

-

 

The entire weekend is depressing as hell. The wedding that Vernalagnia was commissioned for was on Saturday and Nahyun had work all weekend. You were stuck with your jars of daisies that you’d collected for the past two months. Some were still alive, but most of the daisies had withered. The pinks were pressed inside a laminated bookmark. The dahlias, the ranunculus, and the orchid -- they were in their own jar.

 

You wondered what you were missing. Seeing all these daisies seemed so pointless now. It left an empty feeling in your heart, and you wondered if it was because you didn’t receive any daisies that week. You’d gotten too dependent on them, waiting for them to cheer you up during the week. You wanted to know the compliment someone would give you that week.

 

Absentmindedly, you wonder if the flower gifter was as educated about the flower language as Junhong was.

 

-

 

On Monday, Vernalagnia was no longer occupied with the wedding. You hung out with Junhong again after what felt like the longest weekend of your life. You had explained to him about what happened last week and the absence of daisies.

 

“I wouldn’t worry too much about it,” he casually tells you, fashioning a bouquet out of daffodils and chrysanthemums.  _ New beginnings  _ and  _ truth _ , he had told you.

 

“It’s kinda too late for that,” you pointed out. “I’ve been worrying all weekend.”

 

“Okay, well… maybe your flower gifter was busy? Or maybe they’re preparing something big,” he suggests, peering at you from the corner of his eye.

 

“Is it bad I don’t want them to prepare something big?” You whisper. Junhong’s hands still.

 

“What do you mean?” He asks slowly.

 

“I love the flowers, but… I don’t know this person. If they do some big gesture… I wouldn’t be able to accept them, you know? I don’t want to hurt their feelings.” You explain. Junhong places the clippers he was using to trim the stems of the flowers onto the work table and looks at you.

 

“Do you like someone else, then?” He asks. There’s nothing behind his tone. It’s a simple question, yet it makes your heart clench.  _ You _ is what you want to answer with. You want to tell him you had feelings for  _ him _ and not the  _ flower gifter _ .

 

You held your tongue and looked down at the work table.

 

Junhong steps away from it to rummage in the back. Confused, you look back up, watching him move vases and buckets of water and flowers aside to search for something. For a second, you thought you made him angry. But then he straightened up after finding what he was looking for and made his way back to you. Your breath hitched at the sight of those familiar, white daisies that you’d come to love.

 

“No big gesture,” he says, unable to meet your eyes. He was turning red, but you couldn’t make fun of him for it this time -- your cheeks were just red as his. Your throat had gone dry and you were gaping like a fish at him, unable to speak.

 

“You’re--?”

 

“The flower gifter,” he finishes for you. A small smile forms on his lips. “Nahyun told me you were collecting all the daisies I’d given you in a jar, so I got a jar of my own and filled it with daisies. Which was hard, by the way. At first, Yongguk hyung got mad at me for stealing all the daisies, so he told Jongup hyung. And even though he’s quiet, Jongup hyung went and told all of our friends, so I was getting teased left and right, which I guess was Yongguk hyung’s payback. But…”

 

He passes the jar of daisies into your hands, his own, larger ones covering yours. His hands are warm (and maybe a little sweaty, but you weren’t going to mention that) and they feel comfortable around yours.

 

“I think it was all worth it when I saw how much you liked those daisies,” Junhong murmurs. And at that moment, your heart feels so  _ full _ . It seems so unreal that he liked you as much as you liked him, but here you were, accepting his confession in a jar. Slowly, your lips stretch into a smile and you set the jar on the table in favor of wrapping your arms around Junhong’s neck. It’s a bit of a reach since he’s tall, but as soon as his arms wrap around your waist, you know you don’t belong anywhere else but encircled in his embrace.

 

“You know what I like more than the daisies?” You ask him.

 

“What?” He asks, sounding breathless.

 

“You.”

 

You hear a soft huff of laughter and -- as much as you don’t want to -- you pull away from Junhong to laugh with him. It was  _ cheesy _ and  _ mushy _ , but you loved it. You lovedthe warm feeling in your chest that you only got when you were around Junhong. You loved the smiles that he only had for you. And you were positive that you were in love with him, too.

 

“Here’s your first lesson in the flower language,” he hums, taking one of the daisies between his fingers and holding it up for you to see. There was a fond smile on his lips and a look of absolute affection in his dark eyes. He reaches out to hold your hand and press a kiss to your knuckles.

 

“Daisies represent innocence, purity, new beginnings, and true love.”

**Author's Note:**

> this was a birthday gift for a friend ! also, ive had this idea for months now lol.  
> sorry that it's not gender neutral like all my other works, i was 80% through with this when i realized that i don't remember if i had reader's pronouns to gender neutral or not. (i didn't.) btw don't quote me on the flower meanings, there's only so far that google + vanessa diffenbaugh's 'the language of flowers' can take me.
> 
> facts i cldnt fit into the fic!  
> \- daisies r actually 2 flowers in 1  
> \- vernalagnia means 'a romantic mood brought on by spring'  
> \- jongup knew the entire time


End file.
